


Through grief she walks

by Lubylu1989



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, star wars the last jedi
Genre: F/M, Kylo and Rey's son is a dick, Not sure if I will turn this into more, One Shot, Rey is a prisoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-16 20:50:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14818607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lubylu1989/pseuds/Lubylu1989
Summary: A one shot my muses made me write.Rey has a child with Kylo. She has been held captive for years with the title of the prince's mother.Kylo is to be married and Rey is considering her options.





	1. Chapter 1

Rey sips her glass slowly, keeping to the side of the hall and to herself as she watches. The jewellery still feels foreign against her skin, the silk covering her body too soft against her flesh. After all these years she still is not use to such finery and she doubts she ever will be. Her hair is pulled back, twisted into a style that gives her a headache and her doe brown eyes are rimmed with charcoal. Her make up doesn’t let her skin breath and her tan skin is far paler than what it used to be. She is confined to this floating fortress and she has been for a number of years. Rey wishes to feel the sun on her skin again, the coarseness of dirt from new planet as she trains in the dirt. Her hand feels shortened without her weapon, another feeling she has yet to get used to. She doesn’t fit in here. Then again, she never has. Everyone knows that, and yet they say nothing because she is the mother of the prince. An unwanted mother, but his mother none the less.

Her son hates her. He has ever since he found out the truth. He loves his father though, idolises him even, and in this climate, he suits it all to well. It pains her to watch them together, to see the child she had nurtured and protected from this life embrace it so effortlessly. It twists her heart to watch his father place a gloved hand on his shoulder and congratulate him on another victory well done against old friends. How many deaths has her son been responsible for now? Hundreds? Thousands? The count was too high now. Her chest aches, her nose holding a small sniffle at how things have turned out. She wishes to leave, but she is not allowed, and she stays out of hope that one day her son will see the truth and come back to her.

There is clapping, praising, and Rey looks away from the scene. Her son’s father is to be married. To a princess none the less. Her son likes the woman and that alone makes the invisible wound sting worse. Who was she compared to a princess? Rey of Jakku, a scavenger, a Jedi, the hope of the rebellion withering away in the hulls of The Finalizer. The Resistance is still out there fighting. Lead now by Poe with Finn by his side. They miss her, they need her, she can feel it, and the urge to run crosses her mind. He must feel it because her captor looks to her suddenly, his eyes narrow and lips curling in disgust. He would never let her leave. She is the boy’s mother and even if her son hates her, he would never let her abandon them.

“Rey,” a voice speaks. She turns to see a familiar head of red hair and her eyes soften. To think in all this mess, it would be Hux she considers her closet ally. He pities her and even he can see how barbaric it is to keep her around. Death would be more of a mercy.

“General,” she acknowledges. Kylo’s eyes burn into her and she senses it, his anger. He does not like that they are friends. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Of course,” he replies. His smile is forced, his teeth gritted, and he raises his glass to show support for the union. “Cheers to the happy couple.”

“Cheers,” she raises her own, her lips thin and a slight cringe on them. At one point he had offered her the world, now he was making the offer to another woman.

“Come,” Hux holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”

“He won’t like that,” Rey notes, cocking her head to the side. Hux grins wide, putting his glass down and taking hers.

“He will have a wife. He has lost the right to be angry,” he comments. “And when have you ever passed up the opportunity to get under his skin?”

“Never,” she laughs softly. It has no vibrancy to it, more slight amusement, and she takes the hand offered.

People move out of their way as they move to the centre of the floor. There are whispers as they go. There always are. Rey, the Jedi, mother to the prince, ex-lover of the Supreme ruler, her very presence here tonight is the beginning of new rumours. Hux puts his hand on her waist and raises her other hand. He holds her close and Rey feels it again. His anger is growing, soon he will be furious, but Hux is right, he can not make a scene, not tonight. To show his anger would mean he is jealous and if he acted on it he will embarrass his new fiancé.

“Is he watching?” Hux chuckles, looking at her as she looks to father and son.

“Of course,” she states. “When does he not?”

“It bewilders me that he has kept you in a cage,” the general hums. “He should either kill you or set you free.”

“He should,” Rey agrees whole heartedly. “But he won’t.”

“Even I can see how cruel that is,” her unlikely friend sighed, his eyes dulling before his hand grips her waist tighter as the song picks up. “You torture yourself by not escaping.”

“My son-,” she starts. Hux cuts her off, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Is no longer your son,” he breaths. “He is the child of Kylo Ren now. The child of Rey is gone.”

“I can hope,” Rey frowns. The comment was true, painful, a reality she had wrestled with for a very long time.

“As you hoped with the Supreme Leader,” Hux jabbed, taking a shot at her failed attempts to return the man to the light. “You can leave, Rey.”

“I know,” she hums. Rey was capable of leaving at any point. She knows this ship by the back of her hand, the rotation of the storm troopers, the perfect opportunities to run.

“No, Rey,” Hux’s hand became firmer, pulling her attention fully to him. He leans forward, his lips brushing her cheek and Rey gasped at how tense the force in the room becomes. Kylo is about to snap. “The bride has asked for a gift. She wishes to see you hanged. Kylo has agreed.”

“So, he finally plans to be rid of me,” Rey meets his eyes again and she sees how his hand is clasped tightly around his glass to the point it breaks.

“Yes,” Hux’s breath is on her ear, warm and quick as he speaks knowing their time is short. “Let me save you.”

“You have offered me this before,” Rey chuckles. “What makes you think I will accept now?”

“Because you are a survivor,” Hux throws back, his cheek resting on hers. Rey knows the offer isn’t from the heart, that this man, even in his pity for her, strives for more power. He sees Rey as that pathway. To have to woman the Supreme Leader could not. It is a political grab.

“That I am,” she hums, eyes solely on Kylo as she speaks. “But I am also a broken woman.”

“No,” his hand tightens around hers, desperate for her to accept his offer. The window for this move is short, days at most now with a death sentence hanging over her head. “If you were broken it would be you beside him.”

“True,” Rey acknowledges. Kylo on many occasions has offered her the same, and she in return has rejected it. He is the dark, she is the light, balance must be kept, and she is the holder of that balance. If she were to fall, it would seek another for the job, one who would rise to defeat her son, and she could not allow that. “I will consider it.”

“That is more than you have offered in the past,” he pulls back, lips tweaking at the side and Rey nods at him.

“It is,” she gently smiles. General Hux is not an ugly man, but he is not Kylo. She doubts there will be anything more between them than what there is now. Hux has no interest in having children either. He has told her on many occasions he would not see such an act from her. His offer is purely political.

“Come,” he leads her from the dance floor, taking her hand in his and back to the bar. A drink is in order she summarises. Hux must feel he has won a small battle this night. She has not accepted, but he has gained an inch.

“What shall we toast to?” Rey askes, eyeing the stem of the glass with a bored interest.

“To politics,” he states bluntly. It almost makes Rey snort, but that habit has long been beaten out of her through her elegance teachings. The mother of the prince does not snort.

“Politics,” the word is dry on her tongue, bitter and uncomfortable. Still, she raises her glass and throws the drink back quickly. She will need the amber liquid tonight to calm her nerves.

There is a sense of betrayal suffocating her.  She knew that this day might come, but she never expected him to do it at the request of another. Rey has been expecting that he will finally loose his temper that he seems to hold back on the odd hope that she will change her mind. He wishes for him to be with her, just as the force wishes it too, but she must decline, she has no choice. Her values still align with the Resistance, and that will not budge. Rey can not betray he friends again for a man who only wishes to possess and consume her. The wound though is gnawing at her. He would have her head to please her, the princess, the woman he has chosen to be at his side when she will not be. He has finally given up and replaced her in her son’s life as he has threatened many times before.

Rey wonders if her son will feel anything for her as she stands with the noose around her neck. Will he attempt to convince his father to stop this madness, or will he welcome it? Surely his hate for her has not consumed him that this decision weighs heavily on his shoulders. She is his mother after all, and even Kylo could not change that. Rey looks to them. Her son is smiling. He has her face shape, but his fathers features. He must feel her gaze because he looks towards her and his lip curls up into a snarl. Rey sighs and looks away. The distain for her is clear.

“Tomorrow,” Hux pulls her attention back to him and his hand is placed over hers. “You must give me your answer tomorrow, so the arrangements can be made.”

“Has he sentenced me to hang so soon?” Rey scoffs, growing angry herself.

“Yes,” he confirms. “She wishes to be rid of you before the wedding.”

“How…efficient of her,” Rey hisses. Her son likes this woman, this princess, but Rey does not. She is, after all, taking her family from her, what little semblance of it she has left.

“She sees how he looks at you,” Hux contributes. “It is widely known that it is you he would prefer, that he has bent his knee to ask for your hand on a number of occasions. It is only because you have declined, that she is here, and she knows you can convince him to call it off.”

“I won’t,” she is sure on that. She wishes nothing but happiness for him and their son. Just because Rey denies him, does not mean that she should deny him another.

“I know that,” Hux laughed, sipping his drink. He was relaxed against the bar, his usual stiff posture always slacking around her.

“He knows that too,” Rey sighs, her eyes looking to the floor.

“He does, but that will not stop him from coming to your chambers tonight in an attempt to try,” there is no jealousy at the mention of Kylo still visiting her chambers. Kylo is not shy about it and it is not a secret to be kept.

“He won’t,” she breaths. “He is done with me.”

“He will never be done with you,” Hux laughs again. “You are his greatest defeat. It will haunt him for the rest of his life.”

“Good,” the bitterness seeps back in. She can’t help it. She remains to the light but even she can not be good all the time. Kylo has always been a grey area for her, an indulgence in the dark she has tasted to many times.

“Your spite never ceases to amaze me, Jedi,” Hux hums. It is only to him that she speaks these truths because he, himself, shares them. He does not hate Kylo, he just wants what he has and tonight he may have won a victory Kylo was never able to accomplish.

“I question if I am worthy of that title still,” she muses. She thinks to Kylo, to the bedroom he so frequently visits and all the sinful pleasures she allows herself to indulge in. It is selfish, indulgent, something a Jedi should not have.

“He may dress you in jewels, but that does not change who you are underneath,” Hux shrugs at her. “You are Rey of the Resistance. A scavenger from Jakku. The last of the Jedi.”

“Mmm,” Rey hums, the words comforting even from his mouth.

“You could always run,” he throws at her, watching her from the corner of his eyes to see if she reacts. She does. Rey’s body stiffens, and the thought is one she is not opposed to. Hux is right. She is a survivor and there are only two options for her. It would benefit Hux not to have her around, just as much it would benefit to have her on his arm. They would both make the Supreme Leader unstable, and Hux would do what he does best and work it to his advantage.

“I might,” she gives another vague answer.

“If you did it is possible I may know of a Resistance spy on the planet below that could help,” he offers. Rey hums in response. “It seems you have a lot to consider tonight.”

“It seems I do,” Rey lifts her drink again. She feels the heat of his gaze on her, watching her angrily. She has spent to much time in Hux’s presence again, and his jealousy is starting to grow past the point he can control it. It is only because his soon to be wife has latched onto him that he is not already in front of her. It is her son that approaches instead.

He is a tall boy, like his father, but his face is squared, his jaw jarring and sharp. His eyes are Kylo’s, his nose too, but his lips have a fullness that is from her. He mimics his father with his curled hair kept at a length and currently half is tied back. His is angry with her and she knows why. He places himself next to her and starts to hiss.

“You are embarrassing him again,” he scolds. Hux stands straight, giving the prince the respect he deserves, and her son’s eyes are cold as they linger on the general. He, once again, mimics his fathers distaste for her friendship with the man.

“I do try not to,” Rey smiles at him softly. She will not bite back, she cannot, she still loves him dearly.

“Clearly not enough,” he wraps his knuckles on the bar, obtaining a drink even though he is not yet of age. A few months shy of eighteen and so proficient in the ways of this war. It wears heavily on Rey.

“I apologise,” she gives a slight curtsey. Even if she is his mother, his is of higher stature and she will show him that respect.

“You’re apologises mean nothing,” he hisses. The pain is etched into his voice, her believed betrayal still as fresh as it had been ten years ago. Rey reels back slightly. She had no armour when it came to the boy.

“I will retire then,” Rey has over stayed her welcome and her son has made that clear to her now. He eyes her, his lips pursed, and Rey goes to walk away. It is Hux that speaks next.

“Don’t worry,” he hisses, anger flashing in his eyes at the way the boy treats his own mother. “She is to be hanged in a few days and will no longer be embarrassing the Supreme Leader.”

Her son appears to falter, a gasp leaving his lips and he snaps his head to where his father watches on cautiously. It seems he had not known. Rey can sense his panic through the force, the shock of the revelation breaking through his hatred of her. She is still his mother, and even he she feels, does not wish to see her end that way. He is so much like his father used to be, so full of conflict, and she had hoped he would return to the light. He looks to her, eyes wide, wavering, before they harden, and he presses his lips into a thin line again.

“Good,” he forces out. “I will be glad to be rid of you.”

“If that is what will make you happy,” she smiles at him again. He is her son, her baby boy, and she can still picture the moment she first held him in her arms.

“Stop it,” he snaps, his father’s temper shining through. “Do not act is if you don’t care.”

“I care,” Rey’s face falls, showing her true anguish at the situation. She wishes she had more time with him, even when he treats her so terribly. She does not hold any anger towards him as the fault is her own.

“Do you?” the boy growls, his teeth starting to grind. “Then beg him for forgiveness.”

“The forgiveness I seek is not from him,” Rey is surprised he would ask such a thing from her.

“My forgiveness will not keep you alive though, will it?” the anguish is back, the conflict, and in that moment, he is her little boy again. He does not wish too loose her, no matter how much he hates her.

“No. I suppose not,” she croaks out. Her heart is breaking for her son. He loves his father and hates his mother, but he is afraid he will hate his father too if he goes through with the decision made.

“Why do you not fight anymore?” his voice comes out so quiet, so soft, that Rey almost misses it.

“Because…,” Rey croaks, “Because it will only cause me to lose you further.”

“So, you will allow father to subject you to death?” he is breathing sharply now, desperately trying to control his anger in a public place. “You would rather die than grovel at his feet to live?”

“Yes,” she chokes out. Tears are now running down her cheeks, the charcoal leaving black lines as they fall. He doesn’t understand.

“Run,” his shoulders finally drop and he turns to her, eyes soft, caring, and Rey’s breath gets stuck in her throat. “Please, mother, run, live, do not put the burden of your death on me.”

“Cailen,” she reaches out, but he recoils from her and that in itself is another cut on her soul.

“I release you from your duty,” his eyes narrow as he hisses at her, furiously wiping his own tears from under his eyes. “Run to where he can not find you, and live, knowing your lies has condemned me to this life.”

“Come with me,” Rey grabs his hand. She is desperate as she tries to clasp onto the opening he has offered. “You do not have to stay in the darkness.”

“Don’t touch me,” he hisses. The back of his hand connects with her cheek, and Rey feels her head snap to the side. It stings from the sweeping blow and she is certain it will bleed. Yes. He is his father’s son. “Run, mother, it is what you do best.”

He sweeps away from her, leaving her shell shocked for a moment. Inside she is crumbling. Her son has never laid a hand on her before and it shows her that he is too far gone. He may be begging her to save herself, but the reason in selfish. He just does not want to feel responsible for it knowing that the reason she stays is for him. People start to whisper again, the eyes all watching her as she turns her head back to the front and lifts her hand. It is tender to touch, and she hisses when she touches the split in her skin from where his ring connected. Hux holds out a tissue, his eyes dark with his own disgust. He holds no love for her son and even to Hux the act was uncalled for.

“Rey,” he coaxes. “I think it is best you retire for the night.”

“Yes,” Rey nods, her heart growing cold at the realisation there is nothing left for her here. “I think that is wise.”

“I shall escort you,” Hux holds out his arm, eyes asking the same question he had asked on the dance floor. Rey shakes her head. She has no reason to take the offer anymore. Instead Rey glides past him, head high and refusing to let these people see her fall. Rey, the Prince’s mother has died tonight, and it is time that Rey from Jakku rises again.


	2. Chapter 2

Rey is waiting for him to arrive later that night. The woman knew that even if he has a fiancé now, that he would not, and will not tolerate Hux having his hands on her. No man is to touch her, Hux especially, and the repercussions were not going to be kind. Rey is prepared though. This is not the first time she has so blatantly disrespected him and their son. Rey, the Prince’s Mother, has always been the family disgrace. The word family curls in her mind as a twisted joke. She had once wished for her family to claim her and now that she has one of her own, Rey found herself wishing she didn’t. If this was what family was, Rey no longer wanted it. All she has received from it is years of hell, a man determined to break her to his whim, and a child who no longer wished that he came from her womb.

Rey grits her teeth, head bowed over her cup of tea as she clasps the handle tightly. She had been a fool all those years ago. Weak, naïve, a disappointment to her now deceased master. If Luke could see her now, caged and broken, repeating his mistakes, he would turn away in horror. She had succumbed to a pair of pretty eyes and a misguided hope that she was important enough to sway her enemy away from the dark. Oh, how wrong Rey had been. It had only stirred something far darker in him, an obsession to not destroy her, but to own her. He had at one point, owned her in such a manner as Rey had been too caught up in her own desperate desire for him. He had held out his hand, promising her something that in Rey’s previous naivety she had not understood fully. Kylo Ren had promised her companionship and understanding, he had offered to take her loneliness from her forever and stand by her side. Rey had just assumed that it would be in the light, not the dark.

She remembers those days so clearly. Lying in his bed, his face curled with a smile and his eyes soft, loving. His lips had been on her ear, her neck, whispering sweet words laced with poison. The day she found out his words were lined with meanings she hadn’t had the knowledge to understand was the day she had fled across the galaxy, to his mother who welcomed her back with open arms and warm comfort. It was Leia that had helped her see the error of her ways, that her son was no longer redeemable if Rey’s love for him was not enough to bring him back to the light. Rey had tried to harden her heart, tried to forget him, but the force had other ideas for her, and she found her breasts tender and her stomach unable to tolerate food. It was Leia who explained to Rey what it all meant, and it was Leia who told her that it was Rey’s decision on what she was to do.

“Are you pleased with yourself?” his voice follows the sound of the door opening and Rey continues to stare down at her tea. “Well?” he continues further into the room, his boots clipping across the floor. Rey knows that he has already removed his coat, preferring to be comfortable in her presence than that of a stiff shoulder, Supreme Leader.

“Tea?” Rey breaths out, her voice holding a slight shake to it as she tries to sweep aside her old memories. He sits across from her, just as he always does when he enters her rooms, and Rey lifts the pot. She doesn’t raise her head, she can’t. When she had left the celebration she had been strong, determined, but being left alone with nothing but her thoughts has taken a toll and she dare not let him see such weakness.

“You caused a commotion,” he states bluntly, taking the cup once she has finished pouring it. Rey’s eyes focus on his hands, covered in their usual leather that strained when his fingers curled around the small cup. It is always a sight Rey finds intriguing.

“It seems so,” Rey murmurs, picking her own cup back up and takes a sip.

“Do you have any restraint?” Kylo’s voice is a low growl, more frustration than anger seeping through before he lets out an exasperated groan.

“Do you expect me too?” she finally raises her gaze to meet his and finds that his lip twitches in the corner at her reply.

“No.” His gaze bores into hers, his eyes wavering with admiration and something more.

They fall into a tense silence, neither of them knowing how to address the issue in the room. Rey knows that he wishes to tell her why he has finally come to the decision to end her life, but he has never been one for words that hold a strong emotion. No. Kylo shows his heavier emotions, finding it difficult to express them verbally. He tries, of course, he always did. Rey watches as he opens his mouth, parting his lips slightly before pursing them together and looks to her room. Rey lowers her head again, her finger on the table, nail tracing the carved pattern on the outer rim of it. He stands up abruptly and moves as far away from her as he can.

“Our son,” he starts, voice straining as he paces. “He…”

“Hit me,” Rey finishes, hand leaving the table to touch the cut on her cheek.

“Rey…,” Kylo stops, turning to her on the spot and face creasing.

“What’s done is done,” the woman breaths, her heart clenching in her chest painfully and she takes another sip of her tea in an attempt to distract her.

“Our son is-,” Rey snaps her head up, anger flaring and narrowing her gaze.

“Your son,” she bares her teeth. “Not mine.”

“He is yours too,” Kylo shows genuine surprise, his cold mask falling as his eyes widened in shock and he draws in a sharp intake.

“No,” Rey shakes her head, defeated and broken. She is finally coming to the realisation that the child she had raised is no longer recognisable to her.

“Yes,” he stalks forward, hands slamming down on the table and causing the tea set to rattle. “It was your lies that twisted him. I merely provided him a way to channel that darkness to something productive.”

“I know that,” the broken woman sighs. She sees no point in fighting with him over this. Rey knows, and had always know, whose fault this is.

“Do you?” He towers over her, hand reaching out to cup her face and search her eyes. What he sees in them must not please him because he lets her go just as quickly as if being caught with the end of a lightsaber.

“You should go, Kylo,” Rey mutters, shifting away from the table and towards her bedroom. She is already in her night clothes, knowing in advance this meeting would be short.

“Rey,” he reaches out again, hand grasping her wrist and she pauses to look over her shoulder at him. Rey knows she must look like a shell of her former self. Weak, broken, and unrecognisable as the Jedi he had once hunted across the galaxy.

“It seems your promise to Luke has come true,” she hums, lips pulling into a watery smile, “You did end up destroying me after all.”

“You destroyed yourself,” his grip tightens around her wrist and Rey feels his disgust ripple across the force around them. “You told him I was dead.”

“A mistake I can not change,” Rey acknowledges the pain she had cause both Kylo, and her son.

“You never tried,” he growls, pulling her to him and pressing his forehead against hers. “We could have been a family, Rey, but you were too stubborn.”

“You don’t understand,” she lifts her hands, curling them into his shirt as she breaths in deep. He smells like alcohol and a hint of the woman’s perfume he is to marry.

“If anything,” Kylo lifts his chin, placing it on the top of her head and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest gently, “I’m the only one who does understand.”

“He hates me,” Rey states into the embrace. “He wishes I were dead.”

“He’s angry,” he offers instead. “You can not blame him for that.”

“I was protecting him,” she presses on, telling him the lie she has told herself many, many times.

“You were protecting yourself,” Kylo laughs coldly. “For someone who holds so tightly onto the Jedi way, it seems you can not help yourself from dipping into the darkness.”

“That’s not true,” Rey lies, eyes squeezed shut. This is what Rey hates. Kylo knows her inside and out. He never lets her lay in the comfort of her lies. He pulls her truth out into the light and makes her face a reality she can’t bear. Rey would prefer to hide behind her legend, behind the story hopeful children whispered in street corners to give them the belief that someone, one day, would save them.

“You were afraid I would take him from you. You were afraid that if I knew, I would take him, and you would be alone. That is why, on that day, you chose to follow him, to come with us instead of being left behind, even though it has caused you nothing but agony,” Kylo whispers out, hand curling into her hair as he pulls the strings of her lies one by one. “You told him that his father was a resistance pilot. That he had died, shot down by me, his real father, and you hoped that he would hate me for it. You hoped that if he believed I struck down this false father, he would never leave your side.”

“That’s not true either,” Rey doesn’t bother to pull away, she knows she can’t. He is finally addressing with her what she had done all those years ago.

“It is,” the hand in her hair clenches, pulling her head back painfully and he glares down at her. “He grew up angry, confused, just as I had, and instead of telling him the truth you let him stew in his agony. It was you, and you alone, that is responsible for the man Cailen is today.”

“I may have drove him to you, but you took him and turned him into a monster,” Rey hisses back. She is still in her makeup, not having the chance to clean it from her face yet, and she feels the warmth of her tears stain lines into the layer of fake flesh.

“And yet,” Kylo leans down, his lips mere inches from hers and his dark iris’ holding hers sternly, “He wishes for nothing more than for you to join us.”

“He wishes me dead,” she replies stubbornly. “A death that you, yourself, has granted me.”

“Ah.” If he was to kiss her, the opportunity has slipped from his grasp and he unwinds himself from her to step back and regard her, once again, in a cold manner. They will fall into the role of captor and captive again. “I assume Hux informed you.”

“He did,” Rey holds her chin high, squaring her shoulders and holding herself in the manner she has been taught to.

“He shouldn’t have.” She barks out a laugh, taking a step back to put distance between them. This will get messy if she isn’t careful. “Does Cailen know?”

“Yes.” Rey knows she is in trouble the second the word slips from her lips. His face drops, his eyes hooding, and his lips pull up and into a sneer of disgust. He storms forward, hand outreached, and Rey attempts to stand her ground. His hand goes to her throat, grabbing it harshly as he drags her by it to the wall and pins her. Rey remains calm, knowing that if she fights back it may very well be the end of her.

“Do you have no shame?” he hisses, nose crushing into hers, spit from his mouth flitting onto her faces as he turns near feral. “Is this your plan, Scavenger? You see your demise, so you try one last attempt to destroy his ties to me?”

He is panting, his shoulders heaving, and she immediately wants to shrink away from him. She can not though, he has her firmly pressed to the wall behind her, his body crushed against hers and any tighter Rey is certain the little air he is allowing her to have will be cut off. So, she remains still, face slack, and waiting for the moment to pass. He does not use the force against her, he doesn’t dare, Cailen will feel it and in Kylo’s mind, Rey has cause their child enough stress tonight as it is. He does not wish for the boy to investigate the commotion and find them like this.

“Speak!” Kylo barks at her, teeth clenched and Rey wonders if they will break with how tight his jaw is and raises her hand to put on his wrist.

“No, that is not my intention,” Rey can barely get the words out, but somehow, she manages, and he waits to hear her explain herself more. “My death, the blame, it will be on me. He will hate me more than he does now because he knows I only stay for him.”

“You would ask him to carry that burden?” Kylo is growing more aggressive by the second. He is not pleased with her response, and Rey is wondering if she will even make it to her execution at this rate. “It seems I’m not the only monster in this room.”

“Then let me go,” she croaks out, gasping now and her own grip trying to pull him away.

“So you can abandon him! That is no better!” Rey can no longer breath and she is clawing at him, one hand frantically trying to remove his hand and the other pressing against his face. Her chest is in pain as her lungs beg for air and the pressure of her blood is thrumming in her ears. “You’ve left me no choice! You continue to reject us as your family for a way of life that does not suit us! We belong in the dark, just as you do! We are your family and you can not turn your back on us!”

Rey has no choice. She pushes out, using the force and he is sent across the room. He crashes into the door, his back hitting it first then followed by his head. It makes a sickening crack, but Rey knows that it won’t keep him down. She didn’t expect it to anyway. She just needed him off her, needed his hand removed from her throat. Rey does not wish to die here in the cold walls of the ship she has grown to see as a cage. She is a fighter, even if she is sentenced to die, it will not be because of a temper tantrum. No. She would rather stand in front of a city, noose around her neck, and have the floor fall away from her than his hand crushing her throat. Rey falls to the ground, hand at her throat, rubbing it gently as she coughs and splutters.

“Rey…,” he is moving to stand, hand on the wall and hunched over. She can see that he is dazed, but he is clearly shocked she has raised her own hand to him. It was been years since she has defended herself, and they both realise Rey might not be as resigned to her fate as she appears.

“Get out,” she rattles out, pulling her legs to herself and trying to huddle herself into a ball. Kylo has been rough with her before, but he has never assaulted her in such a manner like this. He has always managed to pull back from that edge, to stop himself from crossing that line. He has always shown her respect because he has always seen her as an equal and held out hope that one day Rey would take his hand.

“Rey, I-,” he goes to take a step forward, but Rey turns, pressing herself into the wall and tucks her head into her knees. She is breaking, crumbling, and they both know it. Tonight has been her undoing. She has been sentenced to death, the child she loved is no more, and now the man who had promised her she would never be alone has shown her once and for all she is nothing to him. “Rey…”

“Father!” the door slides open, her use of the force causing their child to come running, and the sight he sees is one neither of them wishes for him to be exposed to. He is standing there, looking between them and trying to piece it together. “Mother…”

“Cailen,” Kylo pulls himself straight, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder and tries to turn him away from Rey. The boy may resent his mother, but even he does not wish to see such a strong woman reduced to a ball in the corner.

“What did you do!?” Cailen reels on his father, his own anger rising to the surface. Kylo is not surprised by this. He has taught his son that negative emotions are a powerful tool and not to be hidden away. The shock of seeing his mother in such a state is highly emotional, and Kylo is the one that has caused it.

“Come,” Kylo squeezes the boys shoulder. “This is a good opportunity to train.”

“Train!?” their son is alarmed, bordering on disgust at the idea, and Rey can feel it fill the room. He wishes to go to her, to comfort her, to protect her. It would give Rey a small bit of hope if she hadn’t been reduced to such a state, but she feels that she does not deserve his concern.

“Yes,” the broad shoulder man replied sharply. “We must harness this anger of yours properly.”

“I…,” Cailen looks back to his mother, hesitant to go with his father, but then he faults, his mouth dry as he swallows down his objections. “Yes, Father.”

“Rey,” Kylo calls to her softly, his tone leaded with guilt as he observes her body shake with her sobs. “I will…call for a medical droid.”

The door closes, and father and son leave her be. Rey isn’t sure how long she stays on the floor, but she knows it must be a while because her whole-body aches, her eyes are swollen, and her cheeks puffed. She is weak, tired, and she has never felt so numb. There were days in Jakku, when the storms picked up and she was stuck in her AT-AT begging that she wouldn’t be entombed. Rey believed those had been the worst days of her life, but she was wrong. When the medical droid comes in, it is not alone, and a familiar face peers down at her. It is Hux, and Rey throws herself at him even though she knows it makes him awkward. She clasps herself to him desperately, begging him not to leave her and that she cannot bear being alone. He sighs, cursing under his breath and picks her up.

“That man is a fool,” Hux mutters as he lays her in the bed so the medical droid can look her over. “It seems not even you are safe from his rages.”

“Don’t leave,” Rey reaches out, clasping onto his pristine, ironed shirt desperately. She is afraid Kylo will come back.

“To stay would make things worse,” the general cringes out, knowing that if he is found in her chambers it would only set off the Supreme Leader of the First Order again. He likes Rey, maybe even cares for her, but he is a political man skating on thin ice as it is tonight.

“Please,” Rey begs, “I don’t want to be alone again.”

“Sadly, Rey, while you remain here, you are alone,” the man states. He watches as her face falls and she withdraws into herself. It is the truth. She does not belong here. She knew that when she was dressed in fine silks, and she knew that the second she followed Cailen that horrid day her lies caught up with her. Hux is no exception. He respects her, but he will always choose himself above all. “Rest, you will need your strength.”

He leaves, just as the others had, and Rey lies flat on her bed as the medical droid hovers around her. She is limp, staring up at the roof and tears flowing freely again to the sides of her face. She does not sob this time, she is too empty for that. She has given up everything and has gained nothing. She is not the lover of Kylo Ren anymore. She is not the Mother of the Prince. She is not the legendary Jedi, trained by Luke Skywalker himself. She is Rey from Jakku. The abandoned, broken, and unwanted little girl who had fooled herself into thinking she would ever be loved


End file.
